


You Watch Buffy?

by CheyanneChika



Series: CheyanneChika's Sterek Week [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Uses His Words, Halloween, M/M, Mind Reading is not as useful as one might think, Riff on that episode of Buffy, Sterek Week, Sterek Week 2017, Stiles gets Mind Reading Powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 23:38:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12593124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheyanneChika/pseuds/CheyanneChika
Summary: Stiles gets mind reading powers.  It does not go well.(I'm not ripping off that episode of Buffy.  Stiles is ripping off that episode of Buffy.)





	You Watch Buffy?

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I'm late. I left my laptop at work.

Derek desperately wanted (in his head where absolutely no one could hear him be a stupid cliché) for the Buffy the Vampire Slayer trope of “nothing should happen on Halloween” to be accurate.

But it wasn’t. He was also not alone in his head with these thoughts, as characterized by Stiles’s sudden cackling as he heard the thought roll through his alpha’s mind.  Yep, that’s right, Stiles could mind-read now and Derek was trying very hard not to think about anything.

Especially not about Stiles.

He was doing pretty good after the first hour of his brain going, Stop thinking, stop thinking, STOP THINKING.  Now he was doing his best to focus on the trouble that was a witch who cast a mindreading spell—possibly.  Stiles had been vague about how he’d gotten the power and Derek just knew that pinning him against a wall and threatening him would cause other thoughts, ones he’d much prefer to keep to himself.

And besides, it was Halloween, there was a full moon (because of course) and he couldn’t afford to be distracted.

“You watch Buffy?” Stiles choked out.

Peter smirked.  He was the only other member of the pack other than Derek who hadn’t fled the moment Stiles declared that Erica was wearing Batman underwear and Scott was ignoring the meeting he’d just crashed by thinking about sex with Isaac.  Peter had deliberately sent a thought at Stiles that now had the boy actively blocking him out.  “Of course he did.  He was a teenager once.”

If looks could kill, Peter would be worm food.  Fortunately, they couldn’t and Peter was enjoying this.  “He thought Oz was ‘so cool’.”

Stiles couldn’t breathe he was laughing so hard.  “H-he he is pretty laconic, like y-you with-without the brooding part.”  He doubled over, laughing even harder.  “You’re…you’re like Angel with all the brooding!”

Derek sighed and took a deep breath and wondered why he cared about this asshole kid so damn much.

Stiles stopped dead.  Derek’s attention snapped to the human, who was staring at him now, with huge amber eyes.  Peter’s eyebrows shot up as he looked between them.  “Oh dear, did Derek’s little secret finally make its way to the surface?”

Stiles straightened and, without looking at either of them muttered, “I gotta go,” before nearly bolting from the loft.

This was, of course, a problem.  In the loft, a building that was basically empty but for him and the two werewolves, his mind reading was contained.  On the street though, he found that his mind reading had amplified, almost exactly like that Buffy episode.  His head swam with the thoughts of the people passing in cars, kids thinking about candy, joggers looking at and judging other joggers, that woman who was visualizing exactly what she’d do to that dog if it got any closer to her child, more candy, the sugar high erratic thoughts of yet more children, the guy on a bike figuring out if he could move fast enough to beat a car without becoming roadkill, the boy laughing maniacally in his head as he held a magnifying glass over an ant, CANDY CANDY CANDY, that man who lusting after a random woman while he held hands with another, that woman’s thoughts as she tried to figure out whether her kid wanted to be with her or with her father when they divorced, the girl wondering if the guy on the other sidewalk was seizing or just some character from a book or show she didn’t know, want more candy, the mine mine MINE of another’s thoughts and then nothing but panicked fury.

Then there was nothing else.

....

Stiles’ mind was quieter when he opened his eyes.  He was back in the loft, in Derek’s bed, of all things.  He started to sit up, only to pause as pain ripped through his head.  What had he done?  Oh yeah, gone outside.  He lay back, controlling his breathing and hoping that no one knew he was awake yet, the quieter space was a relief and he wasn’t ready for proximity yet. 

Still, he reached out, because he was Stiles and he couldn’t help himself.  Only three sets of thoughts came to him.

He found Derek’s first. They were a ball of fury, worry and incoherent growling.  Even in his own mind, Derek was nonverbal.  Stiles almost smiled.

Peter’s, he only skated over, though they were also containing slight worry, but, on the surface, he seemed to be thinking about how unhinged his nephew was behaving and that was rich, coming from him.

The third person’s thoughts belonged to Scott’s.  His thoughts were a jumble of nerves and fear. He, alone, was the one who knew what Stiles had done, and he was having a very hard time not blabbing under Derek’s fury.

But it didn’t matter now.  The jig was up, he wouldn’t make it through to the chemistry test tomorrow, when he’d been planning on mind reading instead of studying.  Scott had wanted to do it to, but they hadn’t known what the spell would do with werewolf physiology.  Stiles had thought it would work like his other enhanced senses, going out of control until he could practice keeping it together.  If it did this to Stiles, what it could do to Scott was horrifying.

Derek’s thoughts started drowning out the others’ as they escalated to kill, destroy, help, kill, rip, bite, kill etc.

“Scott?” Stiles called, his head throbbing at the darkness subsuming his brain.  Thoughts shifted in the other room and he heard footsteps coming toward him.  “No!” he yelled, wincing at his own voice.  The feet stopped.  “It’s quiet here.  Stay there.”

“Stiles?” Scott asked.  “Are you doing any better?”

“Something like that,” Stiles muttered.  Fury and frustration spiked from Derek and Stiles whimpered.

“Stiles?” Scott repeated, worry tainting his voice as much as his thoughts. 

“It’d be fine if Sourwolf over there could please stop with the murder murder kill kill thoughts.”

Stiles couldn’t see him, but he could feel the angry thoughts recede almost instantly, replaced with guilt.  He breathed more easily and continued.  “Scott, the cure is on the top shelf of my closet.  It’s that bluish gel stuff in a glass Coke bottle.  It needs to be lit on fire for fifteen minutes, then put out and then pour a half cup of water into it before I can drink it.”

“I’ll get it.”

“Good.  I’m gonna pass out again.”  He didn’t know how he knew it was going to happen, but voices in his head other than those in the loft were starting to permeate. 

Scott was already gone.

…

Stiles was vaguely aware of being ordered to drink something that tasted foul while worried thoughts plagued the area around him, with pain and guilt threading through them.  Derek, always Derek.  Stiles reached out blindly for a physical connection and a hand gripped his.

He dropped off again.

…

“You did this to yourself?” The voice was cold and angry and that was all.  No thoughts but his own.  Stiles was utterly relieved and panicked at the same time.  Great feelings to be having five seconds after waking up.

“I didn’t have time to study this week.”

“Oh, but you had time to make up a mind reading potion and the cure for it?”  Derek’s growl was caustic and Stiles felt almost guilty that he was glad he could still tell what Derek was thinking from across a room, namely, pissed off.

“I didn’t think it would get out of hand since I’m still a human.  That’s why I didn’t let Scott take it with me.”  He squirmed and struggled for a moment until he was half sitting against Derek’s pillows.  They were very nice.

“Can you still hear my thoughts?” Derek, king of non sequiturs. 

“Nope.  Just little ole me in here.”  Stiles was pretty sure he was actually quoting the Buffy episode, but he couldn’t be sure.

“I thought you were going to die.”

The words echoed in the silence.  Stiles blinked once and yet, he’d definitely heard that with his ears, heard the rawness of those words. 

“You were just standing there, shaking and nose bleeding and then you collapsed against me.”

It was probably the most Stiles had ever heard Derek speak. He must have let the silence go on for too long, however, as Derek growled, “What?”

Stiles shrugged gently and tried to play it off.  “Just wondering if there was any more to that monologue.”

Derek’s lips tightened.  Back to nonverbal-ness.  It was probably better that way.  Stiles could talk enough for the both of them.  Then he stepped over to the bed, leaned down and pressed their lips together.

Stiles’ thoughts stuttered out and his mind was completely silent for the first time since he’d taken the potion.  Derek started to pull away but Stiles, finally realizing that this was really happening, reached out and yanked the werewolf to him.  Only, that didn’t happen, because werewolf.

Derek seemed to understand though, by the sudden movement against his lips and Stiles’ ineffectual pulling.

They broke the kiss only when Stiles’ phone exploded with sound.  Both of them winced.  Stiles fumbled in his pocket and looked at the caller ID.  “It’s my dad,” he said with a grimace.  His father couldn’t mind read, but he did seem to know when Stiles was doing something inappropriate, like kissing a hot, older werewolf.

Derek straightened up and backed away, even as Stiles answered.  “Hello?”

“I’ve given you a grace period to do whatever needed doing, but now I must know why Scott burst in here, half-shifted, and left with a bottle of flaming goo that was apparently in your bedroom."

“Half-shifted?” Stiles asked, pinching his brow.

“Eh, the trick-or-treaters thought it was pretty awesome.  Good thing it’s Halloween.”

Stiles laughed nervously.  “Y-yeah, good thing.  It’s fine now.  The flaming goo did the trick.”  In the background, Derek winced at the bad pun.

“Good,” the sheriff replied.  “Is everything else okay?”

“Yes, fine,” Stiles replied, “I gotta go, though.”

The sheriff’s nonverbal-ness was every bit as telling as Derek’s, but Stiles knew that his father would let it go.  “I’ll see you tonight, kid.”

“Yeah dad, see you.”  He quickly hung up.  He looked around, but Derek was already gone.  Stiles sighed and flopped against the pillows and sighed.  This was going to get complicated.  He just knew it.

The end


End file.
